


how the mighty fall in love

by artenon



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-20 14:43:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2432552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artenon/pseuds/artenon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kuroo tries weakly to lift his hips. Tsukishima doesn’t respond. “Please.”</p><p>“Please what?”</p><p>Kuroo turns his head so that his words aren’t muffled by the mattress when he says, “Fucking please <i>touch me</i>.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	how the mighty fall in love

**Author's Note:**

> this for my kurotsuki buddy cairah whom i can text at 10:30 AM about kurotsuki orgasm denial [thumbs up emoji]
> 
> title is from the mighty fall by fall out boy lmao
> 
> edit: oh shoot i forgot [tumblr link](http://artenon.tumblr.com/post/99627288305)

Kuroo, kneeling on the bed on his knees and elbows with his face pressed into the bed, mumbles something Tsukishima can’t make out.

Tsukishima thrusts again and Kuroo shudders through his entire body, moaning, and Tsukishima takes a handful of his hair and tugs, pulling his head back. Kuroo lets out another cut-off moan at that.

Tsukishima leans forward and puts his mouth close to Kuroo’s ear. “Did you say something?” he asks, somehow managing to inject something close to a taunt into his breathless voice.

“K-Kei—” Kuroo pants.

Tsukishima’s hand tightens in Kuroo’s hair. “Yes?” He nibbles on the top of Kuroo’s ear, runs his tongue over the shell of it.

Tsukishima knows Kuroo likes it by the loud, pleased noise he makes. “Ah—you feel—s-so good—harder, I’m so close—”

Hearing these words, rather than obeying, Tsukishima stops. He leans back and drops Kuroo, lets his head fall to hang limply between his shoulders, the crown of his head just touching the mattress. He stops thrusting and removes the hand that’s been holding himself steady on Kuroo’s hips, bracing himself on the bed instead.

He looks at Kuroo below him, sees the sweat beading on his back and how tense his muscles are, and he breathes out deeply through his nose, staying himself from responding when Kuroo’s hole clenches around him, hot and tight.

“Kei, oh, my God, please,” Kuroo groans, his arms shaking and then giving out under his body. His chest hits the bed and he whimpers, hands beginning to claw desperately at his sheets as Tsukishima still refuses to move.

“Hm?” Tsukishima asks. His own body is trembling, but he holds himself as still as he can.

Kuroo tries weakly to lift his hips. Tsukishima doesn’t respond. “Please.”

“Please what?”

Kuroo turns his head so that his words aren’t muffled by the mattress when he says, “Fucking please _touch me_.” Out of the corner of his eye, he looks at Tsukishima, although Tsukishima isn’t sure if he can even focus on him properly, his eyes are so glazed over, pupils blown so wide.

Tsukishima sucks in a breath at how wrecked he looks. But he won’t let his self-control crumble that easily.

“Well, since you said ‘please,’” he says, smirking.

Obliging, he skims his hand across Kuroo’s back, sticky with sweat, his touch feather-light, but he pulls away when Kuroo tries to arch against his touch. Kuroo moans, turning his head to press his face into the bed again.

“Please, please, I need more than that, touch me more, please—” he babbles.

Tsukishima waits, clenching his hands into tight fists as he tries to stabilize his breathing. His heart is beating erratically in his chest, but he’s still exhibiting more control than Kuroo, whose hands are now twitching over the sheets, fingers digging into them and pulling at them in his agitation. His breaths are coming out hard and fast and he lets out a low whine, deep in his throat, as he starts rutting helplessly against the mattress.

“I’m l-literally going to explode.”

“Well,” Tsukishima says, “not literally.”

“Kei, for the love of God.” Kuroo can’t even sound annoyed. He’s breathless and needy and he whines, “I’m so close, please, please just finish me off already.”

But Tsukishima holds off. He teases him with a few more fleeting touches here and there, on his leg, his side, his neck. Kuroo continues to babble and ramble, probably not even aware of what exactly he’s saying anymore as he begs and pleads almost incoherently for Tsukishima to please touch him, always trying to move to follow Tsukishima’s hand when he brushes against his skin and finding nothing but empty space.

Tsukishima’s takes a gulp of air. Sweat drips from his forehead and onto Kuroo’s back—Kuroo twitches a little at every drop of sweat that hits him, so sensitive he is now to the lightest of touches on his skin, Tsukishima can just let a hot breath ghost over the skin of his back or neck and Kuroo will _whimper_ —but he doesn’t trust one arm to support his weight if he tries to wipe it away.

He’s waiting, holding himself back for as long as he possibly can and relishing this to its full extent. It’s difficult, the effort of not responding, of maintaining his control and not giving in to the desire to touch Kuroo and finish them both off, but it’s so worth it. There’s a sort of satisfaction in seeing Kuroo like this, just a complete mess, reduced to humping the mattress in his desperation for release, oblivious to—or maybe just not caring—how he must sound as he whines and begs. He marvels at how much he can, at how _easy_ it is to wind Kuroo up, turn him into this.

“Please,” Kuroo mumbles. “Please, please, please, touch me, I’m begging you, I can’t—”

He’s practically sobbing.

“You know,” Tsukishima interrupts, “you’re being really pathetic right now.”

Kuroo doesn’t even rise to the taunt. He just whines loudly. “That’s because it’s _you_.”

Tsukishima freezes, forgetting for a second how to breathe. “That’s not fair,” he complains, and finally, finally wraps his hand around Kuroo’s cock and squeezes.

“Oh, fuck,” Kuroo gasps, hips immediately bucking as he starts fucking Tsukishima’s hand. “Holy shit, Kei.”

Tsukishima grabs Kuroo’s hip with his other hand, hard enough that he might actually leave a bruise, and finally starts thrusting against him again, back and forth, finding his rhythm and building momentum until he finally drives himself all the way in, and Kuroo comes with a hoarse cry.

Tsukishima holds Kuroo steady with both hands and thrusts one, two more times before he comes, too, and practically collapses on top of Kuroo, panting.

Kuroo is trembling beneath Tsukishima. “You.”

“Hm?”

Kuroo doesn’t say anything, but makes a low groaning sound.

Tsukishima slides out of Kuroo and moves off from on top of him. He slides the condom off and ties it in a knot, going to throw it away before he becomes too lazy to move.

“You,” Kuroo says again when Tsukishima collapses back onto the bed. He’s rolled onto his side so that he can face Tsukishima. There’s semen smeared all over his stomach. “Love you.” His voice slurs over the words.

“After that, you’d better,” Tsukishima jokes.

“Guh,” Kuroo says. “Can’t. Words.”

It honestly makes Tsukishima giddy, seeing Kuroo so completely blissed out like this. Knowing he was the one who did this to him. It makes him almost smug, but overwhelming that is another feeling he can’t quite put a name on, deep in the pit of his stomach.

He loves it, though.

Kuroo’s chest heaves with the deep, slow breaths he’s taking. His eyes are closed. Since he seems less able to move than Tsukishima at the moment, Tsukishima drags himself over and wraps his arm around him. Kuroo lets out a great sigh, practically melting against his chest and pressing a lingering kiss to his collarbone.

“Gonna make you feel so good,” Kuroo promises. “Later. When I can.” He pauses. “Words.”

“I’m holding you to that,” Tsukishima says.

“Love you,” Kuroo mumbles again.

“I know,” Tsukishima says.

Kuroo snuggles closer, pressing their bodies as close as he can, and Tsukishima shifts a little so they’re more comfortable. Well—as comfortable as they can be when they’re both sticky with sweat and come, and a warm that’s teetering on the border between comfortable and uncomfortable, anyway. But Kuroo doesn’t seem to mind and, all things considered, Tsukishima doesn’t really, either.

He lets his eyes drift shut for a few minutes and relaxes, Kuroo’s scent filling his nose and his warmth filling his arms.

“We need to clean up,” Tsukishima murmurs. The bed is sticky and gross. Moreover, _they’re_ sticky and gross. “Tetsurou?”

He cracks his eyes open to look at Kuroo, and snorts when he sees that he’s fallen asleep.

He can’t bring himself to wake him up, though. Instead, he just kisses the top of his head, whispers, “I love you, too,” and closes his eyes again.

It might be nice to just sleep in each other’s arms for a while.

**Author's Note:**

> /DIVES INTO DUMPSTER BURIES SELF UNDER TRASH NEVER SHOWS FACE TO WORLD AGAIN


End file.
